Pure
by GlassSnowDrop
Summary: When Eleven-year-old Alexandria's Mother is killed, her Father starts to work for the very man that killed her: Voldemort. Now, age Sixteen, she's a Death Eater In Training, specialising in Ward work. However, what happens when she's caught and held prisoner by the Order of the Phoenix? Sirius/Oc
1. Chapter 1

The Chapter One; Blood.

This chapter is dedicated to the AMAZING –AccioTeddyLupin, for being such a great reviewer ;D

I stand at the door of the study, a sturdy black and silver structure that blends in with the rest of the dismal house. I knock once on the door, and await the reply that comes after a heartbeat. Not a greeting, but a push of a button and the door slides open. I step inside; my shoes click on the polished floor as I walk to the desk. His eyes flick uninterestedly over me and back to his papers that lay neatly on the black wood. He leans over his work, so I can only see the black hair that is shot with grey. I wait in front of the desk as the minutes tick by, straight backed and blank faced.

The room is large, but mostly void of furniture and is as cold as death. Everything is black, green, or silver, as is the rest of the house, and dark magic artefacts lie here and there, giving the room an uneasy presence. Candlelight casts shadows over the green walls, shadows that eerily flicker and change. My brown eye's flick uninterestedly over the room, automatically searching for hidden dangers that may lurk in the dark corners.

Today I wear my uniform. Tight, black trousers fitted with hidden pockets that conceal deadly weapons. The most deadly of all, my wand. Nine and a quarter inches, a smooth black that glints a fiery red in the sun. The same crimson colour as my hair, which is in its usual braid. A form fitting top, stealthy and easy to move quickly in. Boots as black as the rest of my clothes. The sight of me sparks fear in all who see me. Most of whom never live to tell the tale.

None killed by my hand. Seventeen is seen as the right age to make a kill. I am only sixteen so my soul is spared, for a few months at least. No, I only distract, find, disable. The victims vary, muggle borns are the usual pick. They'll be at home, innocent and unsuspecting. Any defences are useless; we have far too much power. The last thing they'll ever see is a flash of green light.

The man in front of me finally acknowledges my presence as he hands me a sheet of perfectly unwrinkled parchment. My name; Alexandria Rakoff is written on the top and under it an address is transcribed in ebony ink, along with a list of names. I nod and silently leave the room. As the door slides silently shut behind me, I sigh. The man is my father.

The choice I have in what I do is minimal. Nothing really. Any rebellion and I would be quietly murdered then disposed of, despite my blood. Moreover, despite how good I am with wards.

Blood is all that matters here. Pure, half or Mud. There are only Pure blood's here. My father, a loyal Death Eater through and through, runs this sector of the Dark Lord's organisation with brutality and fear. This house, once the noble dwelling of Rakoff's old and past, is now the breeding hole of darkness and despair.

It wasn't always like this, when I was younger, back when my mother was still alive, and the Dark Lord unknown, it was wonderful. The Rakoff mansion was adorned in Mama's bright colours and laughter hung in the halls. It was a paradise for a little girl, and I ran and played with the servant's children in the wide open gardens.

Then when I was eleven, my precious Mama was killed, and my loving Father turned into one of the unholy followers of the very man that killed her. The bright colours were stripped from the walls, and death was brought in to decorate. Now I live in a place filled with dark shadows and the immoral people that lurk there.

The house Elves are the only sane creatures here, and the only ones that will stand my company. The others are either too scared or too disdainful to take any notice in me. After my mother died, her friends and the servants faded away, either too scared or too mistreated to stay, leaving me in the care of a now loveless father who was only to keen to hand me over to the house elves. A mistake as the house elves care has taught me more about blood than he has. They have taught me that blood is worth nothing. That your family is who is closest to your heart.

There is nothing I can do though. What choice does a girl trained by her father in disabling wards have, a girl whose father is one of the Dark Lord's closest men. I have my piece of parchment with the names of the people who are as good as dead scrunched in my hands. I unfurl it to see whose blood will adorn my hands this time;

_Fabien Prewett_

_Gideon Prewett_

They shall both be dead by morning.

The paper is stamped as high risk, but it means nothing. They shall both be dead by morning. I walk through the dim corridors to my room to wait out the remaining hours until the mission begins. My room is one of the few solaces I have left, other than the kitchens. The walls are painted snow white, and soft gold's provide contrast to the black of the rest of the house.

I kick my black boots off, and they provide a dark blemish in the soft gold carpet that I sink my feet into. I grab my wand from its hiding spot and execute the necessary spells that will allow me access to my secret hiding place. Even though the room itself is so layered in spells that the Dark Lord himself would have an effort to break in, you can never be certain, and this box contains things that could sign my death warrant. I pull out one of the forbidden books I managed to save when my Father burned all of the 'traitorous' ones. I've read all of them so many times, but this one is my favourite; _The Social Contract_ by Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

I sprawl on my soft bed until my alarm rings sharply in the quiet air, making me jump to my feet. I save my book from where it had been flung to the floor in my shock and lovingly return it to its place in the box, which I then hide with layers of spells. I slide on my boots and check I have all my weapons.

At midnight, I step into the entrance hall. Three others stand there, nameless beneath black hoods. Mine is the only face uncovered, and I draw up my hood to hide beneath. I've done this so many times now, I'm barely nervous, just disgusted at the horrors to come. One of the Death Eater's thrusts out a glove covered hand, I take it and we spin into the air. I land on my feet as silently as a cat, a feat that has taken years of practice.

A rickety house stands before us, black in the night. A few waves of my ebony wand eradicates the outside wards and they fizzle out gently. One of the other's point's there wand at the gate and it swings open silently. It's best not to touch anything as people will curse anything that they think might help to protect them. None of it is ever any good though. We creep down the garden path, to the front door. A swish of my wand disables the wards, another flick opens the door. It is surprisingly easy for a house that has been labelled as high risk.

We stalk soundlessly in, I am in front guiding with light from my wand. The three others follow behind as we stalk up the stairs. I push the first door and it slides silently open. The room is dark, but the sound of breathing directs us to a man who's features I can barely make out in the faint light of our wands. He's about twenty, with wild ginger hair and even in the dull light I can see his freckles. He's probably innocent and unaware that his life span will now be very short indeed. I stare at his young face, too young to die. However, there is nothing I can do .So, I just stand there and wait for it to all be over.

The crack of apparition startles me back to my senses, I tense, adrenalin racing. There's no more time to think before we're ambushed by blurring figures. They swarm through the open door, like bee's into a honey pot. There is three sudden cracks and I turn just in time to see the Death eaters apparate away. I search around me frantically for an exit but the door's blocked by aurors and the windows are tiny. The only option is to fight.

And fight I do. My wand swirls through the air, again and again. Flashes of light fill the room, red, pink, blue, and orange. Every colour but green. Screams fill the air- I'm not sure if they're mine or not as everything confuses around me.

I fight and fight and fight. But no-one can fight forever, especially when their sixteen and outnumbered by about ten to one. I'm exhausted and my wand moves slower now. I miss a curse and gain a gash across my forehead and warm blood drips into my eyes. Spells wiz towards me from all directions. I scream as a jet of red light hits me straight in the chest. Then everything is black.

* * *

**A/N; Hello everyone, this is a sort of new story; I had a couple of chapters up here, but it was quite different as is going to be changed drastically, I feel the other one was only half-baked, and I shouldn't have posted it as soon as I did. I hope you like the changes, if you read some of the other story, and if you didn't, I still hope you enjoyed it!**

_The Social Contract_** by Jean-Jacques Rousseau is a real book; ****A famous quote from the book states that "Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains." This accurately summarizes the book's prime position on the importance of individual human rights within society, so basically, Alexandria is reading a book that goes against all the Dark Lord's views. **

**This story is going to have longer chapters, and a different writing style to Unique, but I'm really looking forward to writing it and I have a lot of inspiration! Thanks for reading, I love you all.**

**Also, if anyone would like to beta this, give me a shout.  
**

**Anyone wanna send a review to tell me how you thought it went?**

**Love, Chloe. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two; Into the lair of the lion

White light blinds me as I open my eyes; I try to reach my hands up to shield them. But, I can't. My eyes adjust to the harsh light and I see that both my hands and ankles are chained to a wall. I'm in a small, empty room. The floor was decorated in the rich coloured carpet of an ancient pureblood home, as were the walls. The room was completely devoid of furniture but the normal ancient heirlooms essential for any good pureblood family hung on the walls, however they had a homely feel to them., which made me wistful for the old decoration my own home had back when my mother was alive. I cast the thought from my mind and stretch my aching limbs up as to glimpse the name on the portrait nearest to me, Articulus Potter.

So, then. I am in the house of some of the biggest blood traitors out there; the Potters. It's certainly not a good place to be for a death eater, but is that what I really am?

I pull at the chains but they're firmly locked in place. Instead, I just succeed in chafing my wrists. I kneel on the uncomfortable floor. I only have about ten centre metres of movement, so I can't even stand up. I know the protocol for capture; Say silent and escape at first opportunity. I can't follow the latter, but the first is easy as I've seen not a single soul.

Somebody has changed me into a grey shirt and off-white shorts. Presumably to make sure I have no hidden weapons. Smart of them, because by now they've probably found all the Potions, poisons and knives hidden in my clothing. I can still feel the crusted blood on my face and dry sweat on my skin. I don't suppose they heal the wounds of a Death Eater.

A door, hidden in the tiles slides open. A man steps into the room, flanked by two others with wands drawn. I almost roll my eyes at this, I am sixteen, tied up and wandless. What do they think I'm going to do? The man in the middle must be highly trained if he thinks he can face me without his wand. Either that, or he's mastered wandless magic, so I don't doubt him for a second.

"Name." The man barks out. I stare sullenly at the floor in silence. "I asked you your name scum!" He shouts. He's up close to me now, and I can see his face is covered in scars. I open my mouth, and spit at his feet. He whacks me in the face. I reel from the blow, but it's nothing I haven't felt before. Blood gushes from my nose, dripping to the black tiles beneath me. The man smirks in satisfaction, "Very well then. The veritaserum please." One of the others silently hands him a vial containing a clear liquid. My face goes pale. This is not good.

A guard pinches my nose, so I have no choice but to open my mouth so that I can breathe. The potion is stuffed down my throat. I try to cough it up, but although some splutters from my mouth enough goes down. My head feels light and my thoughts are puzzled. The man asks, smirking, "Who are you? We know you're a Death Eater, but which one?"

"Alexandria Rakoff," I say through clenched teeth. The man whistles, "So, you really are that traitors spawn then. The hair gave it away, but nobody has seen you in the daylight before." I growl at him, baring my teeth. I really don't like this pompous old git. The smirk grows, "My my. Someone has a temper." I snarl in reply. "But, don't worry. I'll soon knock that right out of you." So, there's a verdict before there's even a trial. This obviously wasn't a legal operation, my suspicion grows. I obviously haven't been captured by Auror's.

I fix my glaring stare onto again. I listen to him drone on about how we all get our comeuppance in the end, and I shouldn't have joined the Death Eater's if I didn't want this to happen to me.

"I didn't join." I mutter. "Did you say something scum?" He asks, saying the word 'scum' as if it is the worst insult he can think of. "I said, I didn't join." I say, louder this time.

"Don't be stupid. Of course you joined; your lies don't fool me." He sneers.

"I didn't!" I scream, defending myself. He kicks me this time and my eye closes from the pain, I can feel it swelling already. Then all of a sudden, I scream louder, furiously shaking at my chains. I yank them harder, and I feel them cutting into my wrists. But I'm so angry I don't care. I'm screaming and screaming and he's kicking and punching me. Until finally I sag limply in my chains, the fight drained from me. I glare at him as he aims a kick to my stomach.

The tiled door slides open and the man who was kicking me steps back guiltily. In walks, a man with tousled black hair, glasses and most significantly of all; a lightning shaped scar. I gaze at him with vary eyes. The other man fumbles, "Potter! I didn't know you were coming."

Potter. One of the highest members in the order of the Phoenix. My eyes widen, he doesn't look evil but appearances do not matter. The Death Eater's think he's dangerous, so much that they barely ever speak his name. "Well, it is my home." He states, and there is a hint of anger in his voice. He comes over to me and I cower into the wall. "Look at her Moody." He says to the man. "She's probably only James' age. She maybe a Death Eater, but that does not mean you can hit a child. Don't even try to deny it, because I know that she certainly didn't look like that when she came in." Moody stutters in indignation, but there's a glint of remorse in his eyes. Potter picks up the vial from the floor, sniffs it, and groans. "Please tell me this isn't veritaserum." I blink at him through a hazy gaze and he groans again. "It is." I say, still bound by the potion's magic.

Potter mumbles to himself angrily as I stare up at him. He's fairly old, with receding jet-black hair, glasses and brown eyes. He glances at me and I flick my gaze quickly to the floor. As I take a deep, shuddering breath in, I note the pain in my ribs. Potter looks at me, "We'll get someone to fix that" He says, but the sympathy in his voice is limited, I am, after all in his eyes, a Death Eater.

We wait in silence for a few minutes, as he stares at me quizzically, then he speaks again, "I'm going to have to ask you a few questions." I nod, once. "Could you tell me your name?" He asks. "Alexandria Rakoff." I say, and I fix my gaze on a painting on the wall opposite.

"Do you know the location of your Father's headquarters?" I shake my head, barely noticeably. This doesn't seem to surprise him.

"Is your Mother really dead?" He asks, I glance at him. "It might've been a scam." He shrugs. I echo the movement, "To the best of my knowledge." I say.

"And are you the reputed red-headed Ward specialist that I've had so much trouble with." He asks. It amuses me slightly, that I gave the Order of the Phoenix so much trouble, and they probably hated me so much, but none of it was done of my own free will.

"What do you think?" I say. He tilts his head, and says analytically, "I think that you've been trained in the Dark arts, but I'm not sure it's what you genuinely believe in."

"How can you tell?" I ask, surprised, and my guard comes down for a moment. He smiles a little, "Usually I would have been called a Blood Traitor about fifty times by now." I bite my lip, true.

"Now, Alexandria. I need to read your mind. And I'd feel better if you gave me permission." He tells me, honest brown eyes drilling into me.

"Yes." I say, "I'll let you read my mind." He nods, and I think that he may look a little relieved.

"I'll be as gentle as I can." He promises, and then waves his wand a few times and my chains evaporate. Another swish conjures up a bed in the middle of the room. Any of the others would've probably used now to escape, but I don't want to go back. "Do you want to sit down?" Potter asks, patting the bed. I stand, feeling my aching muscles and swollen wounds. I perch delicately on the bed, drawing my feet towards me and wrapping my arms around them.

I feel a probing at my mental defences, and it goes against everything I've ever been taught to remove them. But I do, one by one. My eyes are closed, squeezed tight. My breathing quickens as I feel his presence in my mind. Memories flash before my eyes as he searches. Long forgotten raids flash before my eyes, ones from back when I started, when I was just eleven. I see my father, stern and unforgiving as he hits me repeatedly with the cruciatus curse. Me, cupping a mug of hot chocolate in my hands as I talk quietly with the house elves. Secretly reading books I found in the library. Playing the piano. A whole lifetime passes in only a few minutes.

I shudder as he withdraws from my mind. Fleetingly I wonder if he thinks that I'm a bad person now, I know I think I am. His eyes rest on me with some unrecognisable emotion, they meet mine for a moment, before I glance to the floor. "I have to attend a meeting now. Thank you."He says softly. I stay motionless on the bed whilst he leaves the room, then I let a single teardrop leave my eye.

I hardly ever cry, as a rule. Not when I am punished, snubbed, or ignored. Only very occasionally, when I feel there is no hope. Even now the tear is solitary, no others join it in it's lonely descent . Before, locked up in that dark castle it had seemed fruitless that I would ever be free. I used to look out my window at the birds jealously, because they were free- to go anywhere, be anyone. I wasn't. Maybe now, there was a chance I could be.

**A/N I hope you all like chapter Two! Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter, and to everyone who favourited this, or put it on alert. I love you all muchly. I wrote most of this whilst watching the Olympics; I'm getting seriously addicted now! Team Britania are doing so well. If only I got of my bum and did some exercise... Naw.  
**

**Thanks to AccioTeddyLupin for being my beta. :D  
**

**Love, Chloe. **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three; I'm just a house of cards

I waited on the bed, thinking and thinking until I lost track of time. However, sleep was too far away. The moments ticked by, quiet and unassuming from the clock on the mantel piece, until the door opens once again. I sit up slowly and face the door. Three men and a woman come in, Potter clutches the hand of the woman, who is staring curiously at me.

Both of the other men I have never seen before. One is old, his white beard tickling his chest, and half-moon glasses perch comfortably on his nose. The other is young, with shockingly ginger hair, many shades lighter than my own, which is more auburn. The woman, who I assume to be Potter's wife, stares at me with remarkably piercing brown eyes. Her hair is arranged in neat curls, and its rich brown colour is shot with streaks of grey.

I sit with a poker straight back and my hands in my lap. I am starkly aware that I'm far from threatening right now, but I do my best to put a glower on my face as they draw closer. The man with the beard clears his throat gently, "Hello, my child. My name is Dumbledore, I think you may have heard of me?" I manage to keep the shock on my face, but only because of my many years containing emotion. May have heard of him, May! Of course I've heard of him, his name is whispered in dark shadows. He is immensely powerful and the only person who could possibly contest Voldemort. So, yes. I've heard of him. I nod, silently, for I do not like to waste words.

I guard myself, flinching inwardly at this unseen turn of events. My mind is so confused right now, my thoughts turbulent and unsettled. The ideals of my early childhood and heart clashing with the Death Eater propaganda drilled into me in recent years. I clasp my hands tightly in my lap, as if that would hold me together. I look up at Dumbledore, and realise he's still waiting for an answer. "I may have heard your name before," I say levelly," I'm Alexandria Rakoff, I think you may have heard of me also." Dumbledore lets out a chuckle, and the others in the room actually crack a smile. I haven't joked in a while, so I am a little rusty, but I need some amusement in this strange alien place.

"I have also heard of you, my dear." Says Dumbledore, and I spot a twinkle in his clear blue eyes. Maybe the guy's not so bad, I can remember my Mama mentioning him once, and fondly, so he must be okay, right? Dumbledore's voice breaks my musings and I look up into the eyes that appear to be reading my soul, "It's very nice to finally meet you Alexandra, I have been looking forward to this meeting for quite some time." I gaze at him, puzzled.

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"We," He says, casting a hand behind him, "along with others, are part of a group called The Order of the Phoenix, which tries to defend innocent people from being harmed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters." I gulp at the ease in which he says the name. He continues, "The Potter's were very good friends with your parents, June was actually your mothers best friend in school." I am surprised at this, as I don't recall her ever mentioning a June Potter. "Unfortunately, your father did not approve of the friendship, and your mother ended the friendship."

I look at Mrs. Potter, and see her eyes are sad. I flick my gaze back to Dumbledore as he continues, "It has been a concern to us, for quite a few years, to remove you from your Fathers grasp. Because, I fear that without your mothers guidance, and his pain at her death, he has taken the wrong path." I swallow painfully as he carries on, "So, you see Alexandra, one of our spies leaked information about this particular mission, and we were able to send a team to retrieve you." I blink, unsure of what to say, unsure of which emotions are running through me.

"Thank you." I say eventually, in a voice unusually emotional. These people, even though I'm still confused about who they are, and exactly what they do. But they've probably just done the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I can't help the overwhelming gratitude I am feeling . I honestly haven't felt this much emotion since the period around my mothers death. When locked up in a Death Eater infested house, and killing people every other night, you tend to become immune to emotion after a while.

"Well, it has been very pleasant meeting you, Alexandra. We shall let you get your rest now." Dumbledore says, giving me a polite nod. After a few more lingering looks, they all leave the room and I slump on the bed, exhausted. I pull my hair from its elastic and let it fall over the pillow, I finger a silky red strand as I silently wonder as to my fate. I should try to escape, I don't know these people, but I know they're strong. However, I feel compelled to trust them, and they can't be worse than Voldemort and his cronies.

I stare up at the intricate patterns on the ceiling until my eyes begin to droop with impending sleep, rolling over I begin to think that things can only get better from now on. And it is with that thought that I fall into a deep slumber.

* * *

I blink blearily into the darkness, something or someone has woken me up. I sit up, quickly and silently, on my guard for anything that could be a threat. Instinctively I reach for my wand at my hip, only to remember that it's not there. Without my wand I feel alone and unprotected, vulnerable almost, which is not something I'm used to. I hear the noise again and realise that it is the door creaking open. A tiny crack of light enters the room from the opening door and I tense, alert for any figure that may enter the room.

Slowly I stand as the door opens further and further. Finally it opens enough that I can lean over to see who has entered. I pear over and see nobody, which puts me further on edge. I scan my brain quickly for a soulotion as to who or what it could be, when I hear a muffled yelp. I freeze, automatically knowing what is happening, they've got an invisibility cloak. One of the rules of attack is know your opponent, but I'm not sure if I have the time to get these people or person. I glance sown to the floor and I can see, faintly in the dim light, two pairs of socked feet creeping towards me.

I make a two second decision and jump with huge speed towards them, pulling the invisibility cloak of them in one fluid motion and flinging it to the ground before automatically assessing the smaller and thus weaker of the two. A millisecond later, he is pinned to the floor, my knee on his back. The other stands stunned, mouth open. "Move a muscle and I break his neck." I say. Not all people value there partners enough to view their lives above the mission, but most do. So, I take the Gamble. The man beneath me has a wand sticking out his pocket, for which he is a fool, but I count myself lucky. I draw the wand out his pocket, swishing it quickly to disarm the other man, and another flick renders him unable to move all of his body other than his head. I do the same to the man beneath me, who has been sensibly keeping still and quiet.

I levitate the man on the floor up, and place him next to his partner. I perch on the bed, legs crossed. "Lumos." I say, flooding the room with light. I look at the two men, who now I can see are barely men, probably the same age as me, and a crinkle graces my forehead. The boy I had pinned on the floor has glasses, and similar hair to Mr. Potter, which gives me an inkling as to who he is. The other boy has Black hair also, but his is neater and well-kept, matching his handsome features, and is admittedly incredibly handsome.

"Who are you and why are you here?" I ask levelly, wand raised.

The boy with the glasses replies, "I...I'm James potter, and this is Sirius Black." I stiffen. "Black?" I ask. For I know several Blacks, and none of them good. His forehead creases, "We don't choose our parent's he says airily.

I raise an eyebrow, "Quite true." I say, "Now, you have failed to tell me why exactly you are in my room?" I question.

"Well," The Potter boy begins, "When Mother told me we weren't allowed in here, we were naturally curious, so we decided to check it out." He finishes, sheepishly.

"You know," I say, "I could've killed you and escaped by now, if I had the mind to. This wasn't a very sensible idea of yours was it?" James's cheeks flushed at my tone, and I swear if he could've he would have scratched his head, but the Black boy merely continued to scowl.

"So, I'm not quite sure what to do with you now." I say, "I'm sure there'll be an adult along in a moment because you've probably tripped some sort of alarm getting in here ."

"Could you let us down now?" Asks James, "My nose needs itching." I ponder for a moment, for after all, what are two teenagers going to do against me, especially wandless.

"Fine." I say, and with a flick of a wand they drop to the floor with an "Oomph."

"You could've put us down gently," Moans Black, rubbing his head with his now free hand. I roll my eyes. The two boys flop down on my bed and lean back casually; I raise an eyebrow at their carelessness. The Black boy spots me and shrugs, "You said it yourself, if you were going to kill us and escape, you would've done it by now." It's a good point so I shrug back, "Okay then."

"So, I didn't catch your name." Says James.

"I didn't throw it." I say, mouth twitching. Sirius laughs at his friend and I relax a bit more. "I'm Alexandria." I say. I see them glance at each other and roll my eyes, "Yes," I say, "_That_ Alexandria." "You don't seem all that bad." Shrugs James and they relax again, "Can I call you Alex?" He asks and I smile for the first time, happy that they have accepted me so easily. "Sure," I shrug.

"So, what do you two do when you're not breaking into girls rooms in the middle of the night?" I ask. This launch's them into a complex tale of their life at Hogwarts, featuring themselves as 'Maurarderer's,' and with lots of detail about James's failings with a girl names Lily Evans. As they chat on, I become more and more at ease. I laugh more than I have done in such a long time, and I feel so relaxed.

When the door opens and a bunch of adults rush in with wands drawn, James and Sirius look at each other and burst out laughing, even I smile. The adults are slightly gobsmacked and check to see if the boys are imperiused, which makes them laugh even louder. When everyone leaves, either gobsmacked or laughing, I lie down on my bed. I think I may have just made some friends here.

* * *

SORRY, SORRY, SORRY times a billion for the Huge wait, I was so busy in the holidays. I've just started collage and it's majorly scary but I have loads of free periods, so I should be able to get chapters up quicker.

**Also, this is an important note, anyone who likes the Hunger games, I've made a Facebook page, and you can either like it, or I need some more admins! It's this Link; /pages/What-about-you-girl-on-fire-Do-you-have-any-secrets-worth-my-time/288865477893473 But with the www. At the beginning! 'Kay, Like it or contact me about being an admin**

Reviews are so, so welcome. I need Inspiration Guy's! Thanks to everybody who's reviewed!

Thanks to ma Beta; AccioTeddyLupin

Love, Chloe xxxxxxx


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four; Laugh in the face of danger

It has been four days now since my capture and they will be getting restless. They would rather I be killed than share any secrets. Of which I know few, but they will not want to take the risk. After all, the Dark Lord is supreme in their eyes. As for me, my beliefs were in shatters before I even came here. Up till age eleven I was taught all were equal, and had a kind father and doting mother, then once that was ripped away, I was fed a diet of lies and blood supremacy. Then, I was snatched from normality to this strange place of laughing boys and wise, bearded men.

But I think it was my childhood that has made the biggest imprint on me, I miss my mother so much. It seems like just yesterday I was cuddled to her warm embrace. I miss the house elves from the house to, but my father I miss not. I miss how he used to be, but I think my mother's death drove him mad, he loved her too much. I shall never love anyone that much, I won't let myself.

Friends though, are a different matter; they've changed the wards on my room. Probably to make it harder for the boys to get in, but what I don't think they realise is that these ward, these I can break. Even wandless. You see, I spent almost three months trying to master this; every time I failed I was slashed by the Cruciatus curse, so I learnt. The other wards were familiar, but of the sort I could only break with a wand. Even then, I wasn't sure I wanted to leave and go back to that horror house.

There was no way the boys could break these wards, but I hoped they'd try, so I could let them in. I waited for a day, but I am not a patient girl, so I decided that I would look for them myself. It was probably dangerous but hey, carpe diem, as my mother used to say.

It took a few minutes to prepare myself to dissemble the wards, when I was ready I summon my magic and mentally disable the wards that were wrapped around the room. It was simple really. Just add Hopkins theory with Leech's probable imbalance degree, and simplify it using anoretical probability, translate it into Latin, add a little wandless magic and vola. Really, I expected more of the order.

I touch the door and it swings open silently, the corridor is just as stunning as the room I was in, only it has more decoration. Portraits whisper and eye me curiously, I reach out with my mind and surround their frames with wards to prevent them leaving. The carpet is deep and my bare feet sink into it, it enables me to move silently to the large staircase as the end of the corridor. I hear adult voices downstairs, so I take the upward staircase. It leads me to a plush corridor, filled with family photos and I assume this is the family's private quarters.

One door, the fifth one down is covered in posters and keep out signs. I smirk a little, it was too easy really. I ignore the large yellow sign that flashes at me, informing me rudely that I have to knock, and simply turn the knob. It swings open easily. The room smells pleasant, a mixture of cologne and soap. It is less grand than the rest of the house, with blue walls and mahogany furnishings. The grandest thing in the room is a huge four poster, on which two teenage boys sit, gaping at me.

"Hi." I grin, "Fancy seeing you here." James' four head crinkles, "They let you out?"

"Nope." I say, "I let myself out. Don't worry, I won't do anything. Just fancied a chat, it gets awfully boring in there."

"But the wards?" Asks James.

I shrug, "Easy really, I could've got out already but believe me I'd rather be in their than where I was before." They look at each other, and burst out laughing. "You, Alex, are something else." Sirius says. I grin and flop onto the bed, "All this escaping has tired me out." I yawn.

"Bertie Bott?" offers James. I look at the small packet he holds out, filled to the brim with beans of all colours. "What are they?" I ask . The boys gape at me, "Have you been in a hole your whole life?" Asks Sirius. "Something like that." I mutter darkly. My mind fills with images of the dark house I had been living in, a hole might've actually been better. His hand flies to his mouth, "Sorry, I forgot" He apologises, something I hardly ever hear. "It's fine, I suppose I won't use the cruciatus curse on you then." They look at me warily, then decide I was joking and laugh.

After a while of being the Guinea pig for many types of sweets, and laughing at the boys faces when I didn't know their favourite sweets, we start to chat. The boys tell me about their friends, Remus and Peter, and I inwardly hope I can meet them some day. Their school sounds intriguing, an ancient castle filled with mystery and hidden secrets, sounds like my sort of gig. I had heard whispers of such a school at the house, of a deadly and immovable Slytherin house. The Gryffindor the boys portrayed sounded so much _more. _

I was getting ahead of myself however. Because for all I might be enjoying myself now, soon I would be held prisoner, as I have been most of my life. I sigh softly and roll on to my back, looking up and the red and gold ceiling. James and Sirius roll either side of me and together we contemplate the woven plaster complexities. "That sounded like a serious sigh." Sirius told me, "What's up?"

"I don't want to be held in a tiny room anymore. I hate being confined, I have been since I was eleven. I want to be free, and see things properly." I say.

"What do you want to see?" Asks James.

"Anything and everything." I reply softly.

"That's from Reed isn't it?" Asks Sirius.

"You know her work?" I say, a little surprised, he nods, "Her books are some of my oldest companions, and I hid them under my floorboards so they wouldn't find them." I had already told these boys more than I have ever told anybody. But they were so filled with warmth that I couldn't help myself.

"Lily told me about them, they're muggle books." Sirius says. I say nothing, my secret rebellion is in all of our minds. To change the subject I ask, "Who's Lily?"

Sirius groans, as if she is a lifelong burden for him, James sighs, rather lovestruck. ]

"She's a girl." Sirius sneers.

"An amazing, beautiful, marvellous girl, destined to someday be my wife." Sighs James.

"James, she hates your guts." Mocks Sirius.

"Deep down she loves me." Says James. Somehow, I doubted it.

"Lets do something," I say impulsively, "Show me what normal witches and wizards do in their free time." James looks at Sirius and shrugs,

"Most of the time we just fly on our brooms, or play Quidditch or something, but girls don't want to do that. There hasn't been a girl on the Quidditch team for ages."

"Excellent!" I say, "Let's go." I grasp their hands and pull them up, filed with a sudden desire to do something_ normal. _And with that, we headed out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five; Broomsticks and babies.

This is for AlwaysACandleLitCorridor, for leaving such an awesome review, I couldn't NOT write another chapter.

I pause in the exit. The warm rays of the sun tickle my face, warmth I have not felt in so long. Sirius and James pause and turn around, I look at them, drawing in shallow breaths. I realise I haven't got any shoes o, and my toes are cool on the wood floor. I swallow and smile at the boys. The smooth grass welcomes my feet and the breeze caresses my face. Smile etched on my face, I look up at the crystal clear sky and spin in a slow circle. With a giggle, I rush forward in between the two boys. "C'mon!" I laugh at them. Grins on their faces, they sprint to catch up with me. I look at Sirius, and as his warm eyes lock with mine, my heart jumps a little. I shake this feeling of as we approach the wooden lodge where the Potters keep their brooms.

The long, narrow room smells of polish and wood. Along the walls, racks with brooms of all shapes and sizes stretch up to the sloped roof. Here and there, boxes and cases are piled up on the floors. James and Sirius each grab a broom from the racks closest to us, and James tells me to pick whichever broom I want. My bare feet tread slowly down the stone floor, and I examine the brooms on the side. Then, a broom of a red wood catches my eye. It's an elegant broom, smooth wood with gold engravings and a neat tail. I slide it from its holder and turn back to the waiting boys. I feel so empowered that I can't help the smile on my normally blank face.

"Let's fly."

My broom flew into my hand as soon as I commanded it too, and it felt so natural underneath me, like an extension of my body. I leant forward, and the broom shot forward. I abruptly sat back up, "Whoa."

The boys laugh at me, with good humour. "Try it again, but gently." Sirius tells me. So, I do. This time I have a much better control over the broom and I wiz forward. I get my first proper look at the outside of the potter's house. It's just as big as my fathers, but this is a cheerful red brick building with pretty chimneys. The wind picks up my hair, which has become very heavy as I haven't exactly had time to clean it recently. The breeze tickles my neck and the boys zoom past me, I smile into the wind and go faster to catch them up.

Dipping low so the grass tickles my toes, I think. I could just fly off right now, out into the horizon where the sun is beginning to set. They would catch me though; it's not easy to run when both good and evil want to find you. But right now, in this moment I feel so alive. More than I've felt in a long time, and I laugh into the wind and decide I will stay. For now.

We fly and fly until the sky is painted in pink and yellow and the breeze makes me shiver in my thin clothes. Once the brooms are safely deposited, back in the shed we make our way back inside, Sirius tells me a joke and I smile as we walk in the door. The smile drops from my face fast when I see a bunch of angry order members running down the stairs, Oops.

"Where have you been?!" Yells Mr. Potter, "How'd you even get out?" I shrug.

"We were teaching Alex how to fly." Offers James.

"Fly!" Cries Mr. Potter, "You've just handed her escape on a platter now!" His face turns a deep crimson.

"She could've flown off earlier if she wanted to Dad, calm down." Says James, rolling his eyes.

"She's different to the rest of them," Says Sirius, "It's not exactly her fault."

"We're not here to blame her James. She's an accomplished dark witch, a powerful weapon." States another order member. Honestly, right now I don't exactly feel like a powerful weapon. With everyone's eyes on me, I think I shrink a little.

The plump red haired woman, Mrs Potter looks piercingly at me, "Well, now she's out how about some dinner, and she looks like she could do with a hot bath, poor thing." One of the men goes to say something but she glares at him and he shuts his mouth, "Come on dears." She beckons to us. I follow James and Sirius past the order and I hear her hiss, "She's still a child Benji, have some compassion." I decide to like her.

The first thing I notice upon entering the room is that it smells delicious, like nothing I've ever smelt before. The second is that there are others in the room, people who's dirty looks make me ache for my wand. I swallow and take a seat at the table. Sirius and James sit either side of me, and I feel more secure. It's odd though, nobody's ever made me feel like that, except my mother. The rest of the order members flood in, giving me wary looks. Mrs. Potter comes in last and stands at the end of the table. "As you can see, I've invited Alexandra in for dinner, I expect you all to treat her nicely, or I'll never make cookies ever again." This must be a serious threat, and the few of the members look close to devastated at the mere thought. I'd like to try one of those cookies.

With a flick of Mrs. Potter's wand, dishes appear on the table and there is a dove for food. I wait, slightly shocked as people scoop, spoon and shove food onto their plates. "You should try the chicken," Suggests Sirius, "It's delicious." I spoon some of the chicken stew onto my plate and add some rice. It makes my mouth water it smells so good. For a moment I think of poison then shake it off. These people are nice, not like the death-eaters, they wouldn't stoop that low.

I spoon a forkful into my mouth and it tastes even better than it smells, I almost moan in delight. Sirius looks at me, "Good, huh?" He asks. I notice his eyes have flecks of green in the chocolate brown of his iris. "It's beyond good." I smile. The other dinner guests keep shooting me looks, so I keep my head down. Sirius and James chatter next to me, and I feel happy and full. Mrs. Potter tells me I'm too thin, and keeps heaping more food on my plate. I'm absolutely stuffed though, I'm not used to eating this much.

There's a rather large young man sitting across the table from me, his beard reaching his chin. He may be half giant, troll, or something. He catches my eye and gives me a lopsided smile, "So, er, so ya like Quidditch then?" He asks awkwardly. I spot that quite a few people are listening in. "I've never seen in," I shrug, "I rode a broom for the first time today."

"Oh." He says, the others exchange looks, which I pretend not to notice. A young woman next to him smiles at me, "I like your hair," She says, "It's very pretty." I thank her, feeling strange that people are making an effort to speak to me. They all seem so nice and friendly, and the table is full of conversation and laughter. I've never been somewhere like this before. And I love it.

* * *

A/N; Thanks everyone who's read and reviewed this, honestly if you weren't all so wonderful I would never be inspired! I promise regular updates from now on! Bi-Weekly or weekly if I'm on a role. I LOVE YOU ALL.

Review and inspire.

-Chloe x


	6. An

NOT AN UPDATE-SORRY!

Hey guys, I am so sorry I haven't updated in ages, I've just been really busy with college and stuffs. My first exam is on Monday (Eep!) and my last is on the 23rd. So expect an update anytime soon after the 23rd because I'm going to have piles of free time (Yay) Okay, and again, I'm sooooooo sorry!

Love, Chloe


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